Seeing
by redaly
Summary: SimonKaylee, RiverJayne. Rating's there for a reason, but I tried to be careful. My first ever fic, let me know how it is!
1. Kaylee

Kaylee

She watched the doctor fuss at his crazy sister and sighed. It was sweet, the way he worried over the girl, really it was, but sometimes she wished he'd take a moment to see someone else, anyone else, maybe fuss at them for a change. Aw, who was she kidding, she wished he'd see _her_. She'd noticed him the first second she saw him, all proper and civilized, honorable, gorgeous—and oblivious. He'd never seen, never understood her laughing glances, her shy smiles, her 'accidental' brushes. Did a girl have to get shot or have brain damage to deserve his attention? It was almost enough to make her wish she'd get shot again, so he'd _have_ to take notice. There'd been a moment or two when he seemed to notice her, to see she was alive and female and willing…and always something happened, something interrupted.

Sometimes _he_ interrupted, saying she was the only girl in his world like she'd be glad of it, like it was a compliment. But the moments before that, when he'd laughed and said she had nice eyes, when their arms had brushed and their finger touched, almost made it worth the insult.

Sometimes others interrupted, the Shepherd passing suddenly and cluelessly through the corridor as their bodies, their lips, yearned towards one another, wavering, wanting, on the brink—until they both drew back, hesitant, embarrassed, and went their own ways.

Sometimes circumstances interrupted, in Canton they'd been drunk together, casual, heads lolling onto each others' shoulders, telling stories of happier, simpler times. They'd been like friends, comfortable, touching meaninglessly, although it had been oh, so meaningful to her. _What if they'd had just a little bit less to drink_, she wondered, _what could have happened then_…

_"You know, I've saved lives. Dozens. Maybe hundreds. I reattached a girl's leg. Her whole leg. She named her hamster after me. I got a hamster. He drops a box of money, he gets a town." His hair tousled and his shirt slightly unbuttoned, he spoke with the careful clarity of the drunk who has not admitted his drunkenness. Even in his childish anger, he was more citified than anyone else there, but he still looked as though he'd been drinking- or been pulled away from a lady-friend just as things got heated. _

_"Hamsters is nice." She barely remembered to reply, she was so distracted by the sight of just the slightest bit of his chest. It looked like a NICE chest, at that._

_"To Jayne! The box-dropping, man-ape-gone-wrong thing."_

_"You are pretty funny." Pretty perfect, she meant. Pretty civilized, pretty educated, pretty rich, pretty far out of her reach—but too pretty not to reach for._

_"And you're pretty...pretty." His smile lit the bar, transformed him from merely pretty to something so far beyond she couldn't even name it. She was so transfixed by the change that she nearly failed to hear what he'd said._

_"What did you just say?" She couldn't believe it, he'd called her pretty, SIMON, who'd had his pick of the beauties on a central planet, had called HER pretty. Perhaps she was daydreaming, more vividly than ever before, but perhaps, just perhaps it was true…_

_"I just said that you're pretty. Even when you're covered in engine grease, you're... No, especially—especially when you're covered in engine grease." She melted, right then and there, melted into a little puddle on the bar floor. He liked her in engine grease? Maybe she should offer to let him see her in something els— _

_"It's time to get out of this nuthouse." Mal's sudden words startled her "Got some planning to work out."_

_"Now, Captain? Things are going so well." She had no intention of leaving, not when the doc has just called her pretty, especially not when they were nearly alone at their end of the bar, far away from Jayne and his adoring public. _

_"I suppose. Jayne's certainly feeling better about life, but..."_

_"I said, things are going WELL." She nodded toward the doctor meaningfully. Even her Cap'n knew she had a thing for Simon, only the doc himself was blind enough not to notice, and surely Mal couldn't be mean enough to drag them away. _

_"Oh, WELL." It almost seemed as though Mal sighed, or perhaps laughed, but he understood, and he didn't want to deny her anything within his power that would make her happy. "Well, I tell you what. Jayne is stuck here with his adoring masses—why don't you and Simon hang around and keep an eye on him for me?"_

_Kaylee grinned. Simon had called her pretty, and the rest of the crew had left them alone. She turned back to the doctor and settled herself onto his reclining chest, 'aimlessly' playing with the next button. "You think I'm pretty in engine grease?" she asked hopefully. _

"_Hmmmm?" He asked. "oh, yes." His hands, at a loss for what to do, almost instinctively moved to her back as she rested on him, and began to gently, unconsciously, trace patterns up and down her spine, patterns that left fire behind. She shivered at the feeling, her fingers spread across his still covered chest curving inward and then releasing, beginning to move aimlessly there, stopping only when caught on his buttons. She stared at those buttons, at her hands tracing nothings on him, grazing his stomach lightly, feeling him tense and tighten and shiver. She looked up at him with eyes that were both hopeful and clouded with passion, meeting his eyes, dark and startled and wanting. "Kaylee?" he asked, almost pleading, and in response she leaned forward and kissed him, gently at first, seeking entrance with her tongue, gently nibbling on his lower lip, but then more passionately as his hands stopped their aimless tracing and pulled her into him hard and fast, tongues dueling, sweat forming, nearly unable to think for the heat. She turned as he lifted slightly, and she found herself sitting astride his reclining form, center to center, heat to heat. One hand slid down past her back to pull her more firmly into him, and she gasped as his hardness pressed where she wanted it most, while his other hand moved to her aching breast, massaging her firmly. He pulled away slightly to unzip her coverall, although one hand still held her close, and rocked her against him. Then he was tracing the outline of her through the thin material of her tank top, smiling that heart-stopping smile as she shivered and shuddered because of him. "Kaylee" he said, sure now, and sat up, pulling her back to him and kissing her until she forgot where they were, forgot everything but the feeling of his lips on hers and of his hands, gloriously hot, moving under her top now, pinching the swollen buds lightly, pulling the fabric up as she struggled with the buttons on his shirt, needing to remove even that thin layer separating them. "Simon" she moaned, as she succeeded, as his shirt fell away to join hers, as she felt his hair and his muscles and his sweat against her, wanting more, wanting nakedness and solitude. Their breath mingled, their noses rubbed, and then Kaylee began to kiss her way down his chest, tasting the flavor of Simon, stopping to nibble, to dip her tongue into his belly button, making him laugh briefly before she began to trace her way lower, on to his flat stomach towards the buttons on his trousers where she grinned to herself. Making him shudder and gasp, her hand slid lightly across the front of his trousers, skimming his — _

Kaylee shook herself out of her reverie with a gasp. River was coming out of the infirmary, poor girl shouldn't have to listen to anyone thinking on her brother that way, although she didn't much want the poor girl to listen to anything in her head, that was more than a little unnerving. Nearly as unnerving as it was when River stopped right next to her, cocked her head slightly, and then turned to stick her head around the infirmary doorframe and say "and Kaylee wants you" before grinning at her and wandering away. What was she gonna say to him now?


	2. River

River

She sighed as Simon admonished her, yet again, to tell him if she felt sick, or dizzy, or odd, or uncomfortable in any way from the new medications. It wasn't worth the effort to try to tell him that she was fine, that she knew who she was and where she was, and most of the time even _why_ she was, she just couldn't make it come out right. Simple Simon, rescue the girl from the monsters and expect her to come out the same, pigtails and giggles and grins. Couldn't have been the same girl even without the monsters, years had passed, she was all grown up, hair up, long skirts, ready for society. Girls her age were married now sometimes, even had babies. Her gaze wandered to Kaylee, peering in the window, wishing Simon was fussing at her instead, wishing Simon was doing more than fussing with her… Her gaze softened as she listened, dreamily, to thoughts of things she'd never done, things she should have been doing, things normal girls were able to do. Flirting and flouncing and casting teasing glances or meaningful looks, dancing and touching and rubbing and… She looked away and grimaced, didn't want to think of Simon that way, he was her brother, ick.

"Not a toy, Simon." She stated firmly, hoping he would understand her, could understand her. _Can't be put down and picked up just the same years later, can't be glued back together good as new. Always be different, broken pieces stuck together, but some of the pieces are lost and some are twisted and turned._

"I know you're not a toy River." He replied seriously, missing her meaning entirely. "I'm just trying to find the right medicine, I want you to be well again. I know you want to be like you were before, we just have to keep trying. And you need to help me by telling me-"

"I want to be a _girl_ Simon, not the same old girl, a new girl, a girl made up of patches and pieces and all her own." _So frustrated…_ she stuck her tongue out at him, jumped down from the table, and flounced out.

She was gone only a moment before her head reappeared around the corner of the door "and Kaylee wants you." She grinned and flitted off, hoping she'd at least helped someone on the ship to be happier.

She wandered into the cargo bay, still dreaming dreams of what it felt like to be a normal girl, a girl who could talk to boys, could play their games. Thinking of it made her want to move, to dance, and she was the crazy girl, no one would mind, so she began to dance there in the middle of the floor, spinning in circles and tracing patterns, dipping and rising and flowing like the river she was named for. If she moved enough, the air passed by her skin almost like a lover's touch, or so she imagined. No lovers for her yet, she who couldn't speak in sense and couldn't dance with a partner. She closed her eyes and felt the air and imagined it was something else, someone else, although there wasn't yet anyone she wanted it to be. She danced with her invisible imaginary partner, feeling his airy touch. She kissed nothing, fearing he was all she would ever kiss, and almost felt nothing kiss her in return, pressing hotly against her lips and bowing her backwards before drifting away, leaving her searching. Nothing's breezy hands floated up her legs, making her shiver and leap, before running lightly, coolly across her needy breasts. _Please_, she thought _let it be real, let there be a nothing here for me_. Nothing fled, however, leaving her dancing alone, aching and lonely, searching for signs of nothing's return. She danced as she imagined Kaylee would, as Zoë would, as Inara would, calling for her missing lover, showing him what was in her heart for him, what was in her need for him.

"Whatchu doin' girl?" The harsh voice startled her and she froze, staring. Staring at Jayne as he sat up from his weights, sweaty and muscled and the slightest bit afraid of her. She'd wanted that, wanted him to fear her, to recognize her as someone who could make choices, could punish him for bad behavior. In a way he was the only one on the ship who understood, who recognized that she could be in control, that she could make choices and do things because she had decided to. It was strange that the one who was least like her saw her best here, and she had wanted that, wanted him to see her. She watched his muscles shift as he set the weights down, and wondered if that was all she had wanted from him. It wasn't all he wanted from her, she could feel that clearly now in the sudden stillness of the ship. See the images of heat and white and red and sweat. This was interesting, this was new.

"Jayne's a girl's name. But Jayne ain't a girl." She spoke softly, almost gleefully, with a slight smile. Maybe Kaylee had taught her enough to be a real girl today. She moved towards him, confidently, but stealthily.


	3. Simon

Simon

"Kaylee wants me?" Simon muttered to himself. He had been nervous around her since Early's attack on the ship, he couldn't help feeling like it was _his_ fault, like he'd allowed her to be tormented, even though he knew rationally that he had done everything he could. He'd expected yelling, crying, hysterics, hatred, anything, been prepared to deal with them, but the way she tried to act as though everything was normal was almost worse. How could she not blame him, the only sane person on the ship not locked in or knocked out, for not rescuing her? How could he not blame himself for choosing her over his sister?

Before it happened, he'd felt as though they might be getting somewhere, as though there was the slightest of chances that he might not keep screwing everything up, he might be able to juggle helping River with healing the crew with having some sort of a social life that involved the most interesting girl he'd met in years—but it _had_ happened, and there was no going back now. She could never trust him again, and he could never forgive himself. But he could never forgive himself if she were hurt and he didn't go, so he hurried out the door to head to her engine room, preoccupied with what could have happened— "Kaylee!"

He'd nearly run her over as she stood just outside the door of the infirmary. He grabber her shoulders to steady her, and then remembered how she must hate him now and let his hands fall, looking down and away.

"Dunno what she means, 'I want you', no call to go sayin' that, I'm right fit now, no need to go wantin' you at all, didn't mean to disturb you, you got important work to do in here, I'll just…" Kaylee babbled, backing away, looking panicked, before she turned and nearly ran down the corridor towards the crew quarters.

Simon sighed. She definitely hated him. Whatever there might have been, whatever he'd wanted there to be, it would never happen now. If only he'd taken a chance while there still were some, maybe they would have been able to work through this. His mind drifted, he thought about the last of those chances, and of what he should have done differently.

"_Isn't there anything about this place…you're glad of?" Kaylee asked him, eyes hopeful. He paused, and looked at her, for just an instant really LOOKED at her, and realized she was the only thing that made Serenity bearable at first, was the only thing that made it home now. She half smiled, hopefully but expecting him to turn away from her, again, and the pain in her eyes hurt him more than anything else that had happened that evening. And for the first time, he let himself reach out, just that little bit, his hand raised to her cheek—and then he saw the Shepherd out of the corner of his eye, and his instinct was to pull away, just as he had always pulled away. But this time was different._

_He brought his hand back to her cheek, damn the shepherd, damn them all, for just a moment of his life on this ship he was going to do something that he wanted, something for himself. "There's just one thing…" he said, as Book backed away to take another route, "there's just you." His eyes searching hers, he leaned in to place a gentle kiss on her forehead. He kissed a path down her face, ending up at her mouth, where the kisses took fire. He pushed her back against the wall as she gasped his name, and slammed their bodies together. Her hands dug into his hair, tugging slightly, while she moaned and shuddered and tasted. His hands slid along her body, pulling her into him. His hips ground against hers, demonstrating beyond any doubt just how glad he was of her. "There's just you." _

"Simon? You all right?" He started, as Shepherd Book looked knowingly at him. "Mal's looking for your sister, seems she promised to help with the dinner."

"I- I'll find her, th-thank you." Even in his daydreams they were interrupted, there was definitely no hope. He sighed and headed toward the cargo bay. As he entered, he heard River say "Be a good mouse" to Jayne, who sat on the floor, looking as confused as a man could.


	4. Jayne

Jayne

Jayne had been lifting weights for a long time, probably too long without the preacher to spot him, but he needed to let things out, and he needed to let them out now. Gorram girl had saved all their lives, but out of everyone, she hadn't woken him up. Him! Strongest man on the ship, best fighter, most able to take on the bounty hunter, and she'd left him asleep, dealt with it herself, leaving him shamed. 'Had a girl do his fightin', people would say, and 'wasn't aware enough to notice his ship took over, slept through everything'. He was a good merc, he was strong and he noticed things, noticed textures and scents and the way a man's eyes lied when he was about to attack, he could have helped, he could have defended her—them. He admitted it, he felt a little bad about how things happened on Ariel, he almost hadn't called when he'd seen the scans of her poor cut-up brain, when the doc had saved that man's life, when he'd realized how much they'd lost. Almost but not quite, and now he wished he hadn't, Mal had lost all trust in him, something he hadn't even realized he counted on until it was gone. He'd been part of the crew, part of the _family_ and he hadn't even noticed it, hadn't realized how much he appreciated it until he'd lost it. Oh, most of them treated him the same, they didn't know what he'd done, but he knew, and for the first time since leaving home he felt guilt, he wanted to fix things, he didn't know how to apologize for something none of them knew he'd done. Except the girl, who had come direct to him and threatened him. He grinned at the memory, she'd threatened him plain and simple and made sure he knew where his boundaries were, he had to admire a woman who knew how to keep a man in line. She might not be all there, but even in her messed-up head, the parts that had to be were often there now, she knew how to handle him, she knew how to handle knives, what else might she know how to handle… He pushed the weights away from him as though they were his thoughts, and then out of the corner of his eye caught a movement, bright red and white flashing past silently. He sat up, watching River dance.

Crazy as a bedbug, but a pretty thing, even he had to admit she was pretty, and gorram, the way she was dancing as though being seduced by a partner, with her pale skin and dark hair and her long, long legs, legs he could imagine wrapped around him—

"Whatchu doin' girl?" He spoke harshly on purpose, to distract her and stop her oddly sensual dancing, to scare her away, and to remind himself that there was no way he would ever feel her legs around him, he had betrayed her and she had threatened him and they could never be anything more than a girl and a merc on a ship, no connection, nothing.

She stopped as if frozen in place by his words, and stared at him as he put the weights to rest. Those eyes were so impossibly deep, it was as if she saw into his very soul, and he didn't want that, couldn't have it, no girl should know the things he had done, had seen. No girl should know the things he'd thought about her, especially since Ariel, the things he was thinking now as his eyes drifted down the still moving red dress to her legs, those long pale legs… _think of something else, anything else, think of the time she cut you, think of the time she said you had a girl's name—_

"Jayne's a girl's name. But Jayne ain't a girl." She recited as though it were a poem, with the tiniest of smiles, and he hatedthat she could read his mind like that, but at the same time it was almost a relief, here he didn't have to hide, he didn't have to fight for words, he didn't have to pretend everything was normal. She already knew what he'd done and how bad he felt about it, how much he wanted to make amends. She knew how hurt he was by her leaving him sleeping, and, he thought suddenly, she probably knew other things he didn't even realize. She drifted towards him with that aimless walk of hers, never could be sure where she intended going until she got there, there was always the chance she'd been distracting you from her original goal. He was pretty sure he hadn't done anything specific to make her mad, a man couldn't help what he thought, all men had urges, surely she wouldn't get mad over thinking- and it was flattering thinking, damn if it weren't! He began to look panicked as she drew closer, and then in a hurried, frantic moment he was lost to all thought as she suddenly swung herself up to sit across his lap.

"Um." He swallowed, desperate to form a coherent thought that wouldn't get him killed, almost his entire brain focused on the fact that she was sitting on him, touching him in a way awful close to his imaginings. "You shouldn't be here, girl" he growled, wasn't it enough that there were no other free women on this boat, now he had to be tormented by the one who was off-limits? "Your brother must be lookin' for you." He shifted uncomfortably, he didn't know where to put his hands, the natural place would be around her waist, but Mal'd kill him if he touched her, and he didn't feel too good about it his ownself, he might have thoughts but she was just a little bit of a thing, too young and unworldly for a man like him to sully. He might not be a good man, but he'd never been bad to a woman, professionals only, and even of those, only the ones who had come willingly to the job and to his bed, and he even gussied himself up to impress them. Someday, in the vast empty someday he rarely thought of beyond this job and the next and the next, he might even try to settle down, but even then, he knew he could never hope for such a girl as this one.

River giggled, sounding for a brief moment like a normal girl, "Simon's with Kaylee. They're dancing." Really? They hadn't seemed to be that close recently, both had withdrawn after the Early incident, he honestly couldn't imagine the two of them talking comfortably, let alone picking out some music and spinning around a room in each others' arms.

"Not that kind of dancing silly," and she giggled again, he could feel her body vibrating as she laughed "the other kind. This kind." She shifted again, and wrapped her long legs around his waist and her long arms around his neck, pulling herself so close he forgot to breathe. He flashed fully hard in an instant, his entire being concentrating on the fact that nothing but a few thin layers of fabric separated them, feeling her small breasts press against his chest and her warmth settle down on his hardness. He gasped, unable even to speak, and she giggled again, gently, and told him "Today you're a fish", perhaps in reference to his expression. He remained speechless, his mouth working but no thoughts coming out, as he tried desperately to remember that she was not for him, that this was a bad idea, that he had to push her off. "You're playin' with fire, girl" he warned, as he regained control and put his hands to her waist to lift her off. She responded by tightening her grip and grinding herself hard against him, throwing her head back to look up at him, her expression equal parts defiance and pleading and her eyes filled with passion. She moaned slightly and whispered "Fire is fun."

_Well, hell. A man can only take so much, and this was just about it._ He made a final effort, warning her "If you keep this up, I can't be held responsible for what happens here", _knowing that he was on the edge of cracking, and all it would take was for her to-read his mind and figure that out—crap_, as she leaned forward, still moving her hips gently against his, sliding her hands into his hair, and nuzzled and kissed her way along his jawline to just below his ear, nipping his earlobe, _damn woman reading his secret weakness_, but inside he was glowing, thrilled that she'd actually wanted him enough to look in his head. _He'd given her fair warning_, and in an instant, he rolled them over, putting her under him on the weight bench, pressing himself more firmly into her even as he rested part of his weight on his elbows to keep from smashing her. His lips found hers, tongues dueling, teeth nibbling, breath mingling, as his hand slid down her thigh to find the hem of her dress. He hadn't been satisfied with dry-humping in years, and special though she was, he was damned if he was going to be now unless she made him. He slid the dress up, higher and higher on her leg, exploring the glorious skin on her legs as he exposed it. "River" he moaned, not aware it was the first time he'd said her name like that, liking the taste of it, of her. She was as soft as he had imagined, skin like silk or velvet, mouth like fire, shaking and moaning and arching beneath him like nothing he'd ever felt before, allowing his hand to rise high enough to discover the nothing she wore beneath her dress, to gently brush her, to be stunned by her readyness—and then she froze, suddenly, painfully, and whispered into his ear, "The cat's come back" before pushing him off her, pushing him cold and alone and needy onto the hard floor. His blurred eyes finally focused enough to see Simon entering the cargo bay just as River leaned over to his ear, saying "The mice will play again soon" before she gently nipped at his earlobe and wandered toward her brother, calling back "Be a good mouse!" He turned to stare up at her as she skipped away, unsure of what exactly had just happened.


End file.
